Distracted and tempted by her calm exterior, he watched her walk down the length of the valley, as if she were being in led in state across a chandeliered ballroom. Her hair shone in the sunlight, contrasting to her the pale skin of her face. Her dress, low cut at her shoulder, tapered tightly down to her waist, then flared out over her hips.
"No," he corrected himself, she didn't walk, she floated across the grassy meadows. He tried to recollect the colour of her eyes and remained absolutely still, thinking and watching her. She tilted her head back to drink in the sun in the bright valley. He thirsted after her and basked in the warm relaxation of that unquenched desire. Absorbing the brilliant light like a creamy beacon on a sea of green grasses and mosses, her unassuming beauty was irresistible.
She sensed the buttercups warn of his presence. She knew the daisies would not stay still for an instant, fuelling the pastoral gossip behind their ceaseless murmurings. She stiffened her back but kept a pert half-smile on her face. No matter how much she sought timorous flight, she would advance towards him, hidden as he was in the shadows. The leering, speculating satyrs that observed her uncertain moods were the worst. In her mind, they looked at her as if she were on a slave block. Yet, to her way of thinking this almost seemed appropriate. She was up for sale to his high bidding. His charm left her no other option.
She watched him staring pensively from the dark leafy growth of a large oak. Holding her ground , she waited patiently. As usual he would say what was on his mind in his own way and in his own time. His green eyes were compelling, as well she knew for she had glanced into them. She had watched him walk for miles in the forest. When she had strolled into the clearing, a shiver of awareness had rippled up her back.
As she had turned about and seen him looking at her, she had observed him reposition himself against the broad trunk of the oak tree. She saw that irritatingly amused look on his face. He felt her eyes on him, like the brilliant sunlight through the canopy and turned towards her. He winked lasciviously. She smiled politely. Such an apparent differential in their sophistication.
Reaching out he pulled her towards him. She noted the approach of his finger and the light play of his fingers drumming impatient on her wrist bone. If he wrapped his hand around her arm, in a firm, fleshy binding cuff, she would become even more aware, perhaps. The malleability of her arms invite him to trespass. He was there again for her and for the long promised and uninhibited dance she now desired.
She placed her hand on his, inclining her head politely to the fawns in her imagination. They were staring wide eyed in the mutual perception of this couple. She tossed her head, ignoring their silent warning glances and followed his lead into the centre of the clearing. Neither spoke a word during the ensuing dance in the sun together. The dance floor dappled with spotlight glares by the thick foliage above them, spoke for them.
Each time they came together and his hand touched hers,he purposely sought to send a tiny shock through her fingertips. Each time she would look up at him with a little start of surprise. He smiled to himself. Her eyes were like deep forest pools, surrounded by long lashes. Like the rushes that bowed low to him when he had crossed the stream, she lowered her head after looking into his eyes. Having observed him and satisfied herself for a moment she followed their footsteps discreetly,looking to match his bold steps with her own more timid paces.
Those lashes framed her almond shaped eyes to perfection in his eyes. They brought to mind the carpet of forget-me-nots that he had watched grow through the long summer. Would they reflect the same brightness in her eyes now when he bedded her on them, he speculated. Their near ritual dance came to a gradual end. A natural stillness was restored. He bowed over her hand, brought it to his lips and touched it with a brush of his lips.
"Thank you for the pleasure," he bowed. She nodded her thanks dismissively. At that point, he could have just turned and walked away, but he did not want to do that. He wanted to make her really aware of his instinctual delight in her. He needed her to look around to see if he was there watching her. Her eyes had to be on him when he took her hand and walked with her to the foot of his tree.
She accepted his silent overtures without any querulous hesitation. They sat down together on the grass and she spoke quietly at length to him. He could hear the bitterness in her tone, no matter how hard she tried to keep it out. She knotted flowers together distractedly into a childish chain. When she finally dropped the fidgety ornament into her lap, he did not move to pick it up. He simply waited in silence for the her harsh sound of her acrid words to fade. The hesitant echo, slipped fleetingly through the birch trees, startling the songbirds as he responded
"I have you now," he stated pervasively, wrapping an arm around her in a consoling gesture. Then he added in an undertone: "Be still now, my garrulous friend. You have no real need to move."
She smiled to hear his flirtatious yet sensible response to the sundry irritations that she had carried to him. His voice seemed to augur a persistent whispering within her head. The tone was persuasive as he reached over to hold her tightly: "Let him explore you. Let his arm climb your leg like a vine, squeezing your muscles with his limbs. Feel him shivering as he is tickled by the soft down of your hair as he rises."
Vexed by his trespassing in her head, she threw down her chain and made to stand up, with every intention of taking that teasing smile off his face. Her sense of the absurd got the better of her, however, and she started to laugh. In reality, she appreciated his challenging levity. She could not feign ignorance for her own damp musky scent betrayed her. She welcomed him. And they both knew it. Why else did her other leg remain spread, at no prompting of his?
The voice in her mind, now dripping ice, cajoled a haughty look from her with the words: " See, how, I have your bent leg is pinned. See how you are manipulated. Watch the fingertips reach for the top of your thigh, so close. Do I choose to pause around your hip? Do I move your leg out of my way like a grass blade bending in the breeze? You can be sure that when I replace it again, those fingers will be closer to your treasures."
She laughed out loud at the ridiculous imagery his murmurings conjured. If he were a little more assiduous, she might even yield to him. What price those precious jewels he craved? He smiled more tenderly than before and murmured: "You should laugh more often. It is as sharp as the honeybees sting and almost as bitter as the taste of your lips. Yet, still I am tempted to kiss that sharp and bitter sweetness away so very soon."
He pressed against her but she backed away momentarily, gasping: "I do not kiss strangers, Sir!"
He leaned over and whispered: "You know I am no stranger. You belong and it pleases you, doesn't it, to belong this way. You like these flirtatious vexations don't you?"
She nodded mutely for she could only agree. She enjoyed the apparently innocuous way her sensitivities were first teased and then caressed . He adopted a new loving tack with each slight change in the direction of her thoughts. He would wish to be cherished and desired above all things. She knew that and, eventually, she would allow him to reach out to touch her again. Their loving debate churned onwards and upwards.
"You are too beautiful."
"I am. too beautiful for whom, pray?" She responded, a dichotomy of puzzlement and fraudulence. As if she did not know! She loved this attention and she was certain that even as it was hers, he was hers. On the surface she seemed almost powerless against him. Yet her well shaped collarbone, her delicate throat, her sculpted ear laying open to his entreaties, were all cunning devices to entrap him, should she so desire.
Her lips parted slightly. His tongue danced between them, touching her
tongue. Her eyes remain closed, but tomorrow and thereafter he would look
deeply into them. The new levels of sensuality that he was now broaching
were unprecedented in their relationship. Here was an opportunity to been
renewed. She could shrug away it away if she so chose. Here was a prize to
be one beneath the broad beamed oak. But would his blandishments ever be
enough for her to be subsumed to this distracting temptation?
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